


shorts and lore reports

by abettafish



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:21:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28748376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abettafish/pseuds/abettafish
Summary: personal works for friends.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 6





	1. midnight and dark, sandwich edition

“I don’t get it,” Midnight mutters; a finger taps gently along the spine of the book they are reading.

“What do you mean –? Midnight, it’s a _date_. You go out and have fun doing whatever,” Dark’s voice is lightly toeing the line between annoyed and bewildered. Midnight could be difficult to deal with, sometimes, and rather _dumb_ when it came to simple things.

Honestly, maybe they were fucking with her –

“So, like a party,” Midnight places their book face down, using the table as a bookmark. But it means they’re finally interested in the conversation.

“ _No_ –” Dark is quick to end the train of thought. Midnight is _not_ , being ridiculously stubborn as always.

“A party of two, then.” They amend.

“It’s its own thing. Please, you cannot be serious right now,” Dark turns their full attention onto the other, tail flicking out. Midnight isn’t even trying to hide the ridiculous smile on their lips, like the cat who caught the canary. Dark supposes she is the canary, which is ironic considering the set of dark feathered wings her companion sports. A frustrated sigh leaves her lips.

“I hate you,” She says, turning away from the fae (she thinks, that’s always been a mystery) being. However, she can’t help the twitch of her own lips. It was annoying, sure, but never dull. Always something to be said, to be discussed and philosophized about – even mundane topics could be turned on their heads under the scrutinizing eye of her spouse. She enjoyed it, truly, because their _ridiculousness_ meant they entertained her own absurd ideas, even the ones they liked to pretend didn’t exist.

( _“We’re not talking about this.”_

_“You can’t tell me it won’t work! You just lick the ends –”_

_“No!”_ )

Softly clothed arms drape over Dark’s shoulders as Midnight’s hands come to seek ownership over her own. They gently play with her fingers, stealing them away from having their own autonomy. Their presence is slightly cold – maybe something to do with their bird like anatomy, maybe due to something else – but it doesn’t stop the tiny fire lighting up Dark’s cheeks.

“I would entertain this idea, for you,” Midnight comments. A spark of joy lights up Dark’s chest like a fire cracker.

“Really?” She asks.

“Of course,” The reply is instant, no thought needed. Dark, giddy with excitement, jumps up and leaves her own chair. The act drops Midnight’s arms to the wooden surface, where they flop like a cut marionette doll. Their eyes, however, keep a tight hold on Dark.

“We can go hiking, or –”

“Ew.”

“– to a show! Or both! Nothing is stopping us, y’know, no one said you only had to do one date thing per date!” Dark’s smile looks contagious and Midnight finds their lips twitching up slightly.

“If we do it all in one go, then what will do the on the other dates?” Midnight asks. Dark spins to her, stars in her eyes.

“We can go on more than one?” Dark’s enthusiastic tone is accented by the delighted clap of her hands coming together.

“Of course,” Midnight pulls their body up into a standing position and wanders over to where Dark is standing.

“I love it when you say that,” She says. Midnight’s hand comes up to cup the edge of her chin, it makes Dark stutter, a curious look stretching like a shadow across her face. Midnight tilts her face upwards, so they can look down the bridge of her nose and inspect the details laid delicately across the expanse of Dark’s features.

“That’s not the only thing you love about me,” Midnight hums. Red eyes grow wide and lips part, a tongue dipping out to lick nervously.

“Are we about to kiss?” Dark quips. Midnight wordlessly drops their hand and walks away, retreating back to their book.

“Nope!” They call.

Dark was sweet, a kind soul with a lot to give to the world. She knew how to light a room up with laughter and smiles that had no foreseeable end. People gravitate towards her with a magnetic force in their bones. Midnight has never seen her not enter a room full of strangers and leave without half of them being on her call list.

It makes them wonder about who she was, loved, dreamed about before they stole her away.

– _Oh well._


	2. dark and midnight and grayson, sandwich edition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short and unbeta'd. i just wanted to write about sona's being op asf.

Birds, when faced with imminent danger, simply spread their wings and take flight, laughing in the face of sharp teeth and ill intent. Sometimes, Midnight wonders when these types of metaphors stopped applying to them. Even healing from their injuries, they could easy abscond from the surrounding horde. _But_ –

_Crack!_

They twist the zombies’ arm backward, _pushing_ down with a booted foot on its back causing a surprising amount of blood to splatter from the ripping skin. Midnight doesn’t stop until the arm is separated from the body. The zombie groans in protest, still attempting to crawl forward with its free hand. Midnight scowls – their glasses askew and dirtied on their nose, which is scrunched in disgust at the monster’s persistence.

 _But_ – Dark is lying on the ground, within inches of the zombies’ fingertips. Midnight reaches down with a clawed hand to dig their nails into its scalp and hair and _pull_ , dragging the thing backwards brutally. The foot they have planted firmly on its spine causes the fragile bones to bend and snap under the feral force the winged fae is using.

The zombie is dropped when its throat stops making noise. The commotion has garnered the attention of other undead, and their pathetic, wobbling gaits becomes directed at the two. Midnight hisses, shakes their hand in one, whip like motion to dislodge the blood from it, and prowls forward to meet them.

Mere feet away the third member of their party is pushing a sword though the rib cage of another zombie. Grayson is a fearless figure, pulling a silver blade from the monster’s chest and twisting it around to slash through the neck of another in an intricate dance only they could perform. They’re deadly with their weapon, precision aiding in felling enemies within seconds. It gives them enough time to spot the cause of tension in their journey.

Since finding the in-peril Midnight locked within the library, Dark had been on edge, a fuming fire behind nearly every word and glance. Their hitchhiker hasn’t been helping either, only giving Dark satirical responses instead of the heartfelt confessions she seemed to be wanting. It was both entertaining and distressing to watch – Grayson wasn’t sure of the history behind to two. Dark didn’t like to speak about it in detail, but she would drop vague hints and biting commentary about her estranged past. But obviously, Dark is agitated and was match-quick to react over Midnight being around. Honestly, Grayson didn’t understand what the hype was about, but –

They get a clear view of Midnight cupping the face of a zombie and slamming it to the earth in one smooth motion. The thing’s skull cracks against the soil. Midnight stands with a ferocity, making it their soul mission to defend Dark as the other collects herself. A zombie lumbers up to Grayson and they dispatch it with a nonchalant glance, barely sparing a moment to look away from Midnight. The fae creature, with no obvious threat in sight, sweeps over to Dark, who is holding their head gingerly. Their large, black wings are spread defensively, ready to block any incoming threats to Dark’s well-being.

Grayson realizes this will be the most truthful Midnight will ever be in their presence. It makes something click in their brain, like cogs finally clicking together to begin working in unison, pushing forward a machine of understanding. 

_Oh,_ they think, _I get it now_.

They watch as Midnight extends a hand to Dark, assisting the minor god in rising to her feet. A clever smirk is on their face and Dark must be familiar with it, as Grayson can see the metaphorical fumes coming out of her head. They exchange words and Dark slaps Midnight’s hand away, causing the other to let out a mischievous chuckle. As Dark turns to make her way towards Grayson, they can tell the way Midnight’s eyes trail after her in a way that speaks of a longing too deep to ponder on in this moment. Maybe later when it is just the two of them.

Midnight moves after a short moment, coming to stand alongside the two of them as more groans and hisses begin like a chorus from the dense leaves of the forest. This would be a long night.


	3. midnight and grayson, choassmp edition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bro whats it like to have the first canon death bro

“What’s it like?”

They’re in a boat, sifting through old, yellowed maps. The vessel sways gentle with the waves, lulling them with the calmness it brings. Midnight knows exactly what Grayson is asking and thinks it’s sneaky of them to do so her while she is trapped with no escape – unless she wants to go for a really, really long swim. She feigns ignorance anyways because it’s her last defense. There’s no walking away here, no changing the subject, or moving on to someone else who won’t ask her this. It’s just them.

“What do you mean?”

Grayson frowns, because they thought they were past this, that the two of them could confide with one another about things they wouldn’t utter to anyone else and have the confidence that it’ll stay a secret. Maybe they misjudged this, however. There are things they would never utter out loud and only write in the privacy of their journal so maybe Midnight has something similar (she doesn’t – the closest thing she has is a very full bottle in her mind that can hold way more than she originally thought).

“Dying.”

Straight to the point, and Midnight thinks maybe jumping overboard isn’t such a bad idea. Her skin crawls slightly as the Endermen in her screams at the thought. Grayson and Asher were the only ones _there_ when it happened, so naturally they’re the most curious but Midnight doesn’t know Asher like that, and Gods forbid she look _weak_ in front of Grayson. She stares the other God down with a stillness only she can fully possess.

“Have you ever felt like you were being stolen, bit by bit? Like you were a piece of cake that people were taking from with greedy little hands that never once thought about how the cake must feel.”

Grayson shakes their head, brought to heavy silence by the wavering tone in Midnight’s voice. They fiddle with the map in their hands, still not able to read it well enough to tell what direction they should head in to find the supposed buried treasure marked on it with a ‘X’. She wonders if it’ll even have anything good.

“Dying feels like a dream where you can’t run fast enough,” Midnight tosses the map on the bench that sits between them in the boat.

“Did you see anything?” Grayson asks quietly, pushing the subject. Midnight almost can’t believe the audacity. 

“Just the sun,” Midnight doesn’t look at them, opting instead to look over the side of the boat, where a dolphin pokes it’s head up as it waits patiently for their journey to begin.

“The sun?” They invite any sort of elaboration.

“Or two,” She admits as she reaches over the boat to touch the animal’s snout. It dips under the surface before she can, leaving her fingertips empty and floating just above the water. She lets them skim the top, just barely enough to feel a minute burn.

“When I asked for help in bringing you back, they looked worried.” Grayson says. ‘ _They_ ’ referring to the higher Gods in their little echelon; the reason any of them are here in the first place.

“So you’ve said,” Midnight comments.

“If they’re worried, then I think something is wrong –” Grayson starts.

“And a God _dying_ wasn’t your first sign of that?” Midnight snaps, but the sting is like a rubber band. It isn’t meant to hurt.

“I like to stay a little optimistic,” They say.

“Of course, you do.”

Grayson shrugs and picks up the map on top of the pile. Now that they’ve breached the subject, they hoped other topics about the event will be easier to speak on. Midnight’s patience for it seems to be waning thin, however. They wrap it up.

“We should be careful, is what I’m getting at.”

There is a pause, and then an ever so quiet:

“I plan to be.”


	4. gaba and midnight, choassmp edition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hi gaba :p

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: trying to post this, its very peaceful.  
> gaba: dies in minecraft by falling directly in front of me and breaking her knees.
> 
> rip gaba's first canon life.

“You’re part Endermen, right?” The question comes, but not surprisingly. She used to getting questions about her appearance. Midnight shuffles on the wooden stairs, reaching up to twirl a bit of hair around her finger. Gaba is working steady on the newest edition to the bunker, while Midnight watches dutifully, waiting patiently for the other to needs more supplies.

“Yeah,” She replies . Gaba gives her a side glance.

“And your base is… underwater?” It is, in fact, underwater – but so is Gaba’s portion of the base so Midnight isn’t sure what the other is getting at.

“Yeah,” She says again. Gaba stops her work entirely and turns to look at Midnight head on.

“Then does water not hurt you?” She asks, confused. _Oh_ , Midnight thinks. She keeps her mouth shut for a few seconds longer than maybe is appropriate for lying convincingly. The phantom sensations of water gliding along her skin with a tight, uncomfortable sting sits heavily in her mind.

“A little,” She supplies. Gaba frowns, obviously disapproving of the answer. She walks over and takes a seat next Midnight. Her boots toe the line where a small flow of water run through the wood, giving it a beautiful design.

“So, yes, it does,” She says.

“A little,” Midnight persists. It isn’t entirely a lie. She doesn’t make eye contact with Gaba anyways because liars don’t do that.

“Then… why did you make your base _here_?” Gaba gestures around the room. Midnight takes her turn to give the other a side eye. To think back to her first days in the Overworld, where humans would be startled by her appearance – then more Endermen than human – and chase her away. When she would have to hide from hunters trying to gather precious resources with ender pearls being high on that list.

Before she was a God.

She looks at Gaba with a solemn expression, her hand cupping her cheek as she moves to rest her elbow on her knee. A perfect little frown on her lips as she reflects on the past.

“If everyone thinks the same as you, then they won’t come looking for me here,” Midnight murmurs, “I’ll be safe.”

Gaba takes her turn to frown. She shifts a little closer, so her hip is touching Midnight’s. They sit in easy silence for a few moments. Gaba doesn’t mention that, as a God, Midnight needing a hole hidden underneath something that harms her is silly, but she also doesn’t know too much about her in the first place to make that judgment call.

“So, you letting me move in was –?”

“Purely business, obviously,” Midnight deadpans. Gaba just laughs, a light thing, before standing up and going back to work.

“And the diamonds, the golden apples, the netherite?” She calls over her shoulder as she walks back towards her build. Midnight flops backwards with a huff.

“Business assets!”

“Of course, of course.”

In the end, they’re both smiling. 


End file.
